Page 41 of Redeeming the Dragon

He’d said nothing when he landed on the beach. He hadn’t needed to. I knew why he was there, as did my family. They had shied backward from him as he’d fluttered his wings, settling himself on the sand. I’d held my ground. By now, I knew I had nothing to fear from this monster, other than long, silent hours in a cave.

After embracing my family, I’d climbed onto his back, secured myself, and said aloud, “I am ready, Dragon.”

Within moments, we were soaring above my island, I’d waved a final time to my family, who watched with a mixture of sadness, anger, and fright, and then we’d circled the island and were back out to sea. For atime, I’d immersed myself in the grandeur of sea and sky—a sight few, besides the Warkin, were ever privileged to see. The realm of Aerisia, my corner of it, anyway, whizzed by far below. From the back of a magnificent dragon, I marveled at the line of Jeweled Isles, dots of green and gold, which truly resembled a necklace of tropical jewels in the bosom of the deep-blue sea.

And then the dragon spoke in my mind, uttering the fateful question.

I always do my best to keep my promises,I spoke back, answering in my mind.

The dragon was silent for a moment. Then,That is not exactly what I asked.

You asked me a question and I gave answer,I said stubbornly.Make of it what you will.

His wings beat sharply two or three times, as though he vented his frustration.

Lorna,he said,if you listened to your mother’s advice, it will bring heartache. Know this.

I would never intentionally cause heartache to you, to my family, or to anyone else,I replied.I pledge you that.

I pledged him that, even as I knew I was lying. I did intend to intentionally cause him pain, one day. I planned to break free of him. And I truly feared, with a growing knot in my belly, that my mother had a point. If I were to know what manner of hold this dragon had over me, what sort of connection he had to me, I must find out what type of creature he was. Truly Warkin, as he’d claimed? Or something far worse? A Cightweigh of the living dead? A hideous troll? A dreaded, immortal Simathe?

I shivered.

Are you well, Lorna?

Had the mighty beast sensed the tiny action, even as he beat his wings to keep us aloft?

I am well, Dragon,I replied.

Suddenly, the view around me was not nearly so entrancing. Suddenly, I wished to be home in my bed. Either in my bed in the cottage, listening to the echoes of the sea through wooden shutters, or back in the gentle silence of the cave, lying next to the unknown man, letting him hold my hand.

I am simply weary,I said, not admitting that even a fraction of my soul longed for the place to which we returned.

Lay your head down and rest,the dragon said.I won’t let you fall. Sleep. You’ll be safe.

So that is what I did.

I wakened the next morning back in my cave. Initially, I was confused, for I’d heard the soft rush and pull of waves against the shore.

I thought the dragon brought me to his cave,my mind said, perplexed.Am I back on my island? Why do I hear the sea?

Lifting my eyelids, I glanced about, seeing an iron-grey ceiling, rough, craggy walls, and dim, unnatural light.

The cave.

I was in the cave. Why, then, did I hear the sea?

Still abed, I glanced to the left and spotted the mirror. It was already awake, depicting my little window into the Jeweled Islands. I saw the beach in front of my cottage, the grass, the curve in the cove, the golden sand. From it, I heard the gentle roll of the waves and the angry squawkof gulls.

The mystery explained, I climbed out of bed to begin the day. My emotions were turbulent and confused. When I’d been home with my family, part of me had missed the silence of the cave and the presence of the mysterious dragon-man at night. Now that I was in the cave, the silence quickly grew overwhelming. I missed my family, the freedom of wandering an island, going where I wanted, when I wanted, and speaking to whom I wanted.

“Perhaps it is me,” I said aloud, seating myself in front of the mirror after breakfast and opening my sewing kit. “Perhaps I am the problem. I cannot be satisfied anymore. I am a restless creature, destined for unhappiness.”

No,I mused as I turned the blue fabric, stitching and ripping, re-stitching, tucking, cutting, and rolling. No, I did not think I was the problem. The problem, I decided, snipping a length of thread with my scissors, was that I’d gone from one vastly different world to another. All of this switching back and forth between one life and the other—it was bound to leave one restless.

Moreover, there was a part of me that unabashedly longed for my family and former home, and also a part of me that missed the dragon. Or, not the dragon, but the man.

Sighing, I laid the sewing in my lap, my attention flitting between the cave’s craggy grey walls and the mirror with its window to the island.

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